


Date from Hell

by alba17



Series: Steve/Bucky 30 Day OTP Challenge [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Relationship(s), Romance, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, subway attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5224607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a year since the Winter Soldier turned himself in. To celebrate, Steve wants to take Bucky out on their first official date. Complications ensue and Steve and Bucky grapple with the meaning of Bucky’s recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date from Hell

**Author's Note:**

> For 30 Day OTP Challenge, Day 4: On a Date. Thanks to incandescent and ayebydan for beta’ing.

Steve adjusted his tie in the mirror, skin prickling with nervous anticipation. It had been a bitch to get a reservation at Fisk, the hottest restaurant in the city, but he wanted to go all out. It had been a year since the Winter Soldier had turned himself. Over tremendous odds, Bucky had recovered and Steve wanted to celebrate.

Steve had been afraid he'd never get his friend back. The Winter Soldier’s cold, unyielding hardness and complete lack of recognition had shocked him to the core. After months of therapy, rehab, everything Stark Industries could afford, the empty, haunted look was finally gone and Bucky had regained some of his old cocky attitude. 

“You ready?” Steve called out, tugging his shirtsleeves out of his jacket. Sam had gone through everything in Steve’s closet and had picked out a charcoal grey suit with light grey stripes, one of the few formal outfits he owned. “This is the one,” Sam had declared. “Perfect for a first date between two old fogeys. You know, old people don’t like it when you dress too casual.”

Bucky emerged from the bedroom and held his arms out to circle in front of Steve. “Ta-da.” The suit was a deep blue, with a slim, flattering cut, paired with a black shirt. Bucky’s hair was loose at the back, the front tidily slicked back to stay out of his face. The effect took Steve’s breath away.

Steve swallowed. “Um, yeah. I think that’ll do.” He sidled over to Bucky and wound an arm around his waist. He leaned in and sniffed. “New aftershave?”

Bucky’s mouth curved up on one side. “Yeah, Natasha helped me pick it out. You like it?”

Steve let his nose brush softly against Bucky’s neck. “God, yes.” Bucky’s hair tickled Steve’s cheek and he buried his face in it, one hand slipping around Bucky’s neck. “If Fisk wasn’t so hard to get into, I’d be tempted to tear off that suit right now and forget about the whole thing.”

Bucky’s gaze became heavy as it drifted down Steve’s body. “Same here, buddy. Same here. Damn. You clean up good.” 

The air crackled with the tension that always hung in the air between them. During the months Bucky struggled to overcome HYDRA’s programming, all Steve cared about was his recovery. It had been a rough time and no one knew how things would end up. Once Bucky emerged from the Winter Soldier persona, things between him and Steve had progressed quickly. Long-suppressed feelings came to the fore. Steve hadn't been able to hide his emotions and neither had Bucky.

But there it had stuck. They had no idea how to move beyond loving touches and passionate kisses. There was so much emotion bottled up between them, so much baggage. They were paralyzed, afraid to move forward, unsure what any of it meant.

So Steve fixated on the one year anniversary and going out on an official first date with Bucky; a tangible sign of how they felt about each other. Hooking up didn’t feel right to him. He didn't want to fall into bed. It had to be something special. So after scanning reviews online and asking friends for suggestions, he made the reservation at Fisk. It wouldn’t be a double date like those Bucky had always dragged him into; no girls to get in the way, just the two of them with no pretense.

Steve took a deep breath to steady himself. 

He felt Bucky’s hands at his waist and swayed in to brush his lips against Bucky’s scruffy cheek. In the “good old days” he would never have dared do that. And Steve was damn glad of it too. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s face for a moment before they parted.

“Taxi?” Bucky asked. “Or subway? Or do you want to just get a car from Stark?”

As he thought about it, Steve’s hand found its way to Bucky’s back. He had trouble keeping his hands off now that it was okay to touch Bucky whenever he wanted. “What do you think? The subway might be fun,” he said. “Or is it too much?” It was a lot of sensory input for Bucky’s shaky state.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak and JARVIS interrupted. “Captain Rogers, I’m afraid there’s an emergency meeting of the Avengers upstairs. Your presence is required.” 

They looked at each other. 

“Seriously?” Steve said. “I can’t believe this.” He sighed and glared at the floor. If this was about a mission, he was going to take full advantage and kick some bad guy’s ass from here to kingdom come.

“Son of a bitch.” Bucky said.

“Maybe I can pull strings to get another reservation,” Steve said. He hated trading on his Captain America persona, but it came in handy at times. “Do they really need me, JARVIS?” 

A pause, then JARVIS said, “Sir says yes.”

Steve rubbed his face. “Sir has a lot to answer for.”

“It’s okay, just go,” Bucky said. “But when you get back, we’ll start planning the worst prank ever to get back at Stark.”

“Good idea. I’m so sorry, Buck. We’ll do it another time. I promise.” Bucky came over and kissed him on the mouth. Steve almost wished he hadn’t. “Now I really don’t want to go,” he said, chasing Bucky’s lips for more. His hand sought Bucky’s and laced their fingers together. His heart ached.

“It’s fine. We’ve waited seventy years, we can wait a little longer.”

Steve didn’t want to wait any more. “I don’t know about that. You’re back, Buck. You’re better now. I wanted to do it up, show everyone.” Disappointment gnawed at him. He squeezed Bucky’s hand. “Don’t go anywhere. Be here when I get back.”

“Where would I go? I’ve barely left this building in a year.” Bucky’s mouth quirked. His eyes went distant for a moment.

That look worried Steve. “I’m sorry about that. Everyone said it was for the best.” He didn’t need to mention that the Winter Soldier had been too dangerous and unpredictable to let out of the Tower. There'd been absolutely no question of him going anywhere. Steve moved their joined hands up and down, willing away thoughts of what Bucky had been before. “I like coming home to you.”

Bucky’s face softened. “I get it. Believe me. Don’t worry.” 

Steve turned to go, then looked back with regret. 

JARVIS chimed in. “They’re asking for you, Captain Rogers.”

Steve waved at the disembodied voice. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

*

A few hours later, Steve dragged himself into the apartment covered in dust and alien goo. Bucky sat on the couch reading his tablet. “I hope by the looks of you that the bad guys lost,” he said.

Steve stashed his shield and went to the fridge for a glass of water. “Just barely. It was touch and go for awhile until Natasha drop-kicked the leader and Tony deactivated the droids’ life support system.” He swallowed down the entire glass in one go then poured another. “Not exactly the evening I had in mind,” he added ruefully.

“Well, I’m all up to date on pop culture from 1964, so I can brief you on that.” Bucky was on a mission to systematically learn about every year he’d been the Winter Soldier from the perspective of regular people, not super soldier assassins.

Steve snorted. “Not now. Gotta get cleaned up.” He enjoyed Bucky’s lessons, but not when covered in grime.

Bucky came over to the kitchen counter and rested a hand on Steve’s back. “Go. I’ll rustle up something to eat. Sandwiches okay?”

Steve looked at him for a moment, not quite used to having his Bucky to come home to. It had been a long and painful process for Bucky to break out of the Winter Soldier’s conditioning. So far, so good, but who knew what kinds of programming HYDRA might have embedded in Bucky? The docs were still trying figure out all that.

For now he decided to enjoy the seeming normality of it all. “Sandwiches are great,” he said with a grin. 

*

“Let’s do this.” Steve glanced at Bucky and appreciated the view. That blue suit looked just as fantastic as it had a month ago. Bucky's hair curled slightly at the jacket collar. His eyes sparkled.

“Relax, this is a date, not a mission,” Bucky said. “You look like you’re about to suit up and meet the enemy instead of just going to a restaurant.”

Steve audibly let out a breath and tried to loosen the tension in his body. “Well, it’s not just any restaurant, but you’re right. God.” He needed this to go well. It had to be perfect. A whole month had passed before they got another chance to go out and Steve was frustrated. They were still sleeping in separate bedrooms. Somehow it didn’t seem right to go any further until they’d had their first date. Call him old-fashioned - and Sam did every day - that was just how he felt. 

He needed that outward manifestation, something to hang on to. To him, yesterday was Glenn Miller and gun battles in the Ardennes, Peggy in red lipstick and a whiskey bottle shared between the Howling Commandos in a foggy camp in the Alps. He'd only been a couple of years in modern times. Society had gone from a complete prohibition on premarital sex to hooking up over cellphone apps. It was like whiplash and he wasn't used to it. Didn't really know how to think or act. And then there was all the stuff between him and Bucky, a thick wad of emotional baggage, a lifetime's worth of longing and yearning. Bucky - who knew what he remembered.

All of it was a foreign country. Bucky was the lodestar Steve could hold on to, the one constant that meant something in all of this craziness. He didn't want to push it too far, too soon. Bucky was too precious for that. It meant too much.

When Pepper found out an Avengers mission had foiled Steve and Bucky’s first date, she immediately put in a call to the owner of Fisk, with whom she was acquainted. Steve looked on in astonishment as she breezily set up a reservation for that coming Saturday. “And treat them well because they’re good friends of mine…You too…Thanks, Wilson, you’re a sweetheart. Love to Vanessa.”

“All set!” she said to Steve. “You guys are going to love it. Wilson’s food is a-maz-ing.” 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Pepper. I owe you one.” 

She came over and put an elegant hand on his arm. “No, you don’t. I would’ve done it for any friends who waited seventy years for a first date.” She grinned, then reached up to kiss Steve on the cheek. “Go. Enjoy.”

“Come on,” he said to Bucky, taking his arm. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand. There’s some fancy food waiting for us.”

*

They could’ve made use of Tony’s fleet of limos, but it was more fun to take the subway, rumbling through the underground stations that looked so much like the old days. At the turnstile, they laughed as they fumbled with the new-fangled computerized cards. “Tokens were way easier,” Bucky observed. 

“Captain America?” A middle-aged man with a Yankees baseball cap asked for a selfie. “You too, Sergeant Barnes,” he added, waving Bucky into the picture.

“No problem,” Steve said. They stood arm in arm while the guy took their picture, then another one with himself in it. Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s, amused, as if to say, “Is this our life now?” Steve was happy that the guy included Bucky and didn’t treat him like a pariah.

They ran to catch the train across town. When they entered the car, there were a few admiring glances and some gasps followed by frantic poking at cellphones, but nobody else approached them. Probably a few photos would find their way to the internet tonight but Steve didn’t care. He only had eyes for Bucky and he didn’t mind sharing him with the world. Bucky was amazing and everyone should know. 

As they stood swaying with the movement of the car, Steve let his chest brush up against Bucky’s. Their eyes met and the connection was electric; Steve felt they must have a neon sign blinking above their heads: “Caution, two guys in desperate, hopeless love.” Sappy but true. No one paid them any mind though. It was 2015. Guys could make out on the subway and nobody thought anything about it. Not that they were about to do that, although the way Bucky was looking at him, he wasn’t too sure.

As they approached the Times Square stop, the car jerked to a stop. The lights flickered a couple of times, then went out. There was a crackling announcement over the loudspeaker that Steve couldn’t understand. “Probably’ll get going in a minute,” Steve commented. 

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

Steve looked at his watch. He’d allowed extra time, but you never knew. 

Five minutes passed and nothing happened. The other passengers started to grumble. “What’s taking so long?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his brow furrowed.

“Is that smoke?” Bucky said. 

Steve noticed some people coughing. He sniffed the air. “Sure is.” God damn it. His mouth tightened with frustration. 

A few more minutes went by and the passengers were becoming restive. No more announcements had been made. No one knew what was going on and the smoke was getting worse, filling the car with a noxious cloud. A couple of little kids started to cry and one woman loudly complained she was going to be late.

In moments, it was difficult to breathe and impossible to see. The mood grew jittery, with more hacking coughs. Some people covered their faces with scarves to protect against the foul-smelling smoke.

Steve leaned in close to Bucky and said softly, “I think it’s time for Captain America to make an appearance. Be prepared.”

“Yeah, okay. But you’re not going anywhere without me.” 

Steve snuck Bucky a quick, regretful kiss on the mouth. He tried to ignore the thrill of excitement that shot through his body at the contact. “'Course not. And I swear, we’re going to make it to that date some time.” 

“Uh-huh. You sure this isn’t what you had in mind the whole time? Sweeping me off my feet by saving the day? Seen it before, buddy.”

“Jerk.” Steve squared his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s do it.” 

He turned toward the other passengers, and announced in a loud voice, “Everybody stay calm!” Some people seemed to recognize him just from his voice. He could hear murmurs about Captain America. “I’ll try to reach the conductor to find out what’s going on, then we’ll come back to help you out. The important thing is not to panic.” He turned to Bucky. “Let’s go.” 

“That’s right, Captain America and his good ol’ buddy, the Winter Soldier,” a voice said over the loudspeaker, snide and insinuating. “Oh, excuse me, I mean Sergeant Bucky Barnes. Coming to the rescue again.”

Steve stopped in his tracks, heart thudding. “God damn it.” If this was all because of the Avengers, so help him…

“Let’s see what you got this time, boys,” the voice continued. A hissing sound infiltrated the general hubbub and quick flashes of light illuminated the darkness of the subway tunnel.

“What the…,” Bucky said. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know and we don’t have time for guessing games. We gotta get these people out of here.”

He strode to where he thought the door was in the darkness, and felt for the crack between the two doors. Bucky, right on his heels, knelt down to get at the bottom part of the door. They started to pull and with a creaking sound, the doors slowly began to move apart. Then an explosion ripped through the tunnel, knocking the car sideways and flinging passengers about like dolls. The car erupted in screams.

It was a maelstrom of bodies, people crawling over each other, crying and moaning, the high-pitched wailing of scared small children. The tang of blood filled the air. 

“Bucky!”

Steve felt a hand groping him. “Here. Steve, I’m right here,” Bucky said.

“Oh, thank god.” Relief rolled over him. “You okay?”

“I think so. Nothing I can’t ignore for a bit, anyway.”

“Good. Because we’ve got work to do.”

*

The subway incident was part of a coordinated HYDRA attack targeting the Avengers and key public transport locations. Steve and Bucky got everyone out of the subway car safely, but the clean-up took over a day. All the Avengers were kept busy ensuring that no more HYDRA heads rose up to cause trouble.

It was Bucky’s first time back in action. Steve tried to keep an eye out for him, but it wasn’t always possible given the chaos. Bucky appeared to put his head down and get to work with little negative side effects—a good sign. 

Steve wasn’t about to give up on the date. It took a couple of weeks for things to calm down, then Steve tried again. Pepper called her chef friend—again. Steve and Bucky got dressed up—again, this time in new suits because the old ones had gotten ruined in the subway melée. It was getting to be a routine. Steve didn’t like it one bit, but limbo was not a comfortable place to be. Just being around Bucky was driving him crazy.

Steve smoothed a hand down the front of Bucky’s new black suit. "Third time's a charm, right?"  
The all-black ensemble put Steve worrisomely in mind of the Winter Soldier’s outfit, but it looked good, especially with the silver-grey tie.

"Sure. Let's do it.” Bucky’s tone was flat.

"You don't sound too excited about it." If Bucky didn't want to do this anymore, Steve wasn't going to force him.

Bucky made a face. "Of course I am. We've been trying to do this forever. Literally, if you think about it."

Steve snorted and stroked Bucky's chest some more. He was so in love with Bucky, it hurt. "True." After a moment, Steve added, "I just want it to be perfect."

"Don't worry. It will be." 

*

You’d think Fisk was Fort Knox. In addition to bouncers, you had to get past a phalanx of tiny beautiful young women with clipboards, who whispered mysteriously into cellphones as you approached. All smiles and appreciative stares, they whisked in Steve and Bucky as soon as they arrived. It made Steve wonder why he didn't do this sort of thing more often. Oh right, because being an Avenger made it impossible to get a night off.

The restaurant was beautiful, all silver and gilt, holographic images shimmering on the walls under cascading fairy lights. The waitstaff wore what looked like catsuits. Natasha would love it. As the hostess showed them to their table, she said, "We're so honored to have you tonight, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes." 

Bucky caught Steve's eye and made a silly face, which made Steve laugh. He knew exactly what Bucky was thinking. They were just two boys from Brooklyn.

“How much did they spend on this place? Looks like a palace,” Steve said as they at down.

"Can I get you some drinks?" the hostess asked.

"I'll just have whatever beer you have on tap," Bucky said.

"Same for me," Steve added.

"Well, we have a fine selection available from our beer menu, if you’d care to take a look." She indicated a Bible-sized book on the table. 

"Um," Steve said."You got Brooklyn Lager? I'll have that." He knew there was such a beer because he'd seen it in other places. He liked the sound of it.

"Same for me," Bucky said.

"Certainly." She swept away the hefty menu and disappeared.

"Swanky," Bucky said. He tapped Steve's foot with his.

"Told you. Pepper said the food is out of this world." He tried to quell his nerves. Everyone in the place looked like the kind of people you saw getting in and out of limos on the Upper East Side. Bucky seemed to be taking it well as he looked around with curiosity. 

A waiter silently appeared at their table. "Have you dined with us before?"

Steve and Bucky traded amused glances. They hadn't eaten together anywhere but Stark Tower since the war. Steve thought of the coffee shop in the old neighborhood, where Mrs. Schwartz, the owner, always sent Steve home with extra bread. "You're too skinny, we need to fatten you up!" she'd say, patting his cheek like he was a little boy. Steve would roll his eyes but he gladly took the bag of rolls. Sometimes that's all he had for a couple of days.

"No, we haven"t," he told the waiter, who proceeded to explain the menu. Just as he was getting to the end of his recitation, a commotion arose at one end of the beautiful room. Steve couldn't see what was happening, but there were raised voices and he wondered if it was the chef, Wilson Fisk. Pepper had mentioned he was temperamental. All the patrons craned their necks to see what was going on, the wait staff stalled in their tracks. Steve could hear yelling and shouting, the banging of pans.

At that moment, a line of law enforcement officers, navy jackets emblazoned with FBI in large yellow letters, marched through the dining room. "By order of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, this establishment is hereby shut down for violations of the tax code. Everyone out!" one of them yelled out in a nasal voice, with no regard to how much the guests might have paid for their meals or whether it happened to be their first date in seventy years. The room erupted in an angry cacophony. Disgruntled patrons noisily gathered their belongings and began shuffling toward the exit. One man yelled insults at an FBI agent, loudly demanding the government pay for his meal.

Oh no. Steve shot out of his seat, stomach in his throat. "No, no, no, no," he growled. Their evening was going up in flames. Again. This couldn’t be happening. Had fate decided he should be a target of endless bad luck? He was beginning to feel like this was some kind of karmic pay back. It wasn’t his fault they’d found him in the ice.

Bucky stood too. “We didn’t even get our beer,” he said.

“I know!” Steve cried.

As they looked at each other in dismay, a man dressed in chef's whites, built like a brick, barreled towards the FBI agents. His face was the color of raw meat. Without hesitation, he slammed a fist the size of a ham into the face of the agent in charge. The agent went down like a blade of grass under an elephant's foot. At that, all of the agents converged as one on the angry man, presumably Wilson Fisk, and he disappeared under a barrage of flailing arms and legs.

Steve gaped at the conflagration until Bucky grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the door. "We ain't getting involved in this one. Looks like they got it under control and we'd only mess up the works," Bucky said.

Constitutionally incapable of leaving a fight, Steve protested. ”But we can't just walk away," he said as they joined the exodus of outraged and frustrated diners, all trying to reach the front door at the same time. He fumed at the unfairness of everything. First their date was blown to smithereens for the umpteenth time, then he had to leave just when the shit was hitting the fan. What if they needed him? 

"We can and we will." Bucky's tone brooked no argument nor did the steely grip of his left hand on Steve's bicep. "Fisk isn't going anywhere and nobody's getting dinner here tonight." Much as it felt wrong for Steve to abandon a fight, Bucky's jaw was set and Steve didn't dare contradict him again.

They shouldered their way out of the building. Outside, the sun had fallen behind the tall buildings. The cool air cleared Steve’s head a bit, although it didn’t help his grumpy mood. The ejected guests dispersed into cabs and onto the sidewalk. As they walked away from the restaurant, Steve’s heart rate began to abate. "Can you believe it? Of all the luck," Steve said. "It's like we're cursed." 

Bucky looked morose, his head down. "It's all right. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“What? No. We can’t.”

Bucky muttered under his breath.

“What’d you say?” Steve grabbed Bucky’s right shoulder to make sure Bucky could feel his touch. “Buck. Wait. What’s going on? I thought you wanted to do this.”

“Nothing. Forget it. Sure I do.” Bucky moved away from Steve’s hand, not quickly, but enough to show Steve that he didn’t want to be touched right now.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Huh. Okay. You said you wanted to. You kept acting like it was okay.”

“Steve, just…Drop it.” Bucky’s eyes flashed at him. 

Steve decided to let him be for the moment. “Okay, okay.” He wasn’t sure what was going on in Bucky’s head but it seemed counterproductive to press him.

They walked aimlessly for a few blocks, preoccupied and not paying attention to where they were going. East they headed, toward the heart of Manhattan. Steve fumed, wishing he were better at this whole relationship thing. This was Bucky, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that yet. At times it felt like it always had with Bucky, joking around and affectionate. Other times, Steve felt like he had to treat Bucky like a porcelain doll. He’d get prickly and unpredictable, his eyes would fill with pain, and Steve’s heart would break for the millionth time.

Brick walk-ups and ethnic restaurants gave way to glitzy office towers and tourist hotels. The sidewalk became more crowded, with knots of people gathered in front of theaters as show time approached. Maybe they could catch a show? But Steve had seen the prices they charged these days—outrageous.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late for Pepper to work her magic and get them a table at another nice restaurant. He pulled out his phone to call her then took in Bucky’s inscrutable expression, face half hidden by hair, and decided he better wait until he knew more about Bucky’s frame of mind. 

At Times Square, a news report of Wilson Fisk's arrest was broadcast in full color, larger-than-life video. Steve sighed. He still felt weird about not helping out at the restaurant although it was probably for the best. Bucky was right that there wasn’t anything for him to do there.

The sidewalks broadened as they passed Sixth Avenue. ”You didn’t need to take us to such a fancy place anyway,” Bucky finally said. “Woulda been okay anywhere with you.”

Steve breathed a small sigh of relief. "It was kind of fancy, wasn't it? Kinda wanted to try that Brooklyn Lager though." He thought a moment about what Bucky said. “You know I just wanted to show you a good time.”

“Don’t need to go to an overpriced restaurant for that.”

“It’s what people do, Buck. I wanted to celebrate.”

Bucky grunted, expression unreadable.

They continued walking block after block, each caught in his own bubble of silence. Steve was content to keep walking and apparently Bucky was too. As they passed St. Patrick's, Steve wondered if he should go in to pray. At this point it seemed like only divine intervention would work. They continued up Fifth Avenue-this was becoming a very long walk-until they reached the Plaza Hotel and the circle where the horse-drawn carriages parked, Steve said, “Wanna go for a ride?”

“You sap,” Bucky said. “I got a better idea.” He perked up as he pulled Steve across the street into Central Park. “Cheaper too.” They meandered the paths, passing couples holding hands and people heading home after a long day. The sky was still light out just above the tall buildings, dark blue seeping down and painting the sky with its hue. Steve looked up and saw a couple of stars twinkling high above. 

“Where are we going?” he said.

“You’ll see.” 

Bucky led them off the sidewalk and onto the grass. They left the crowds behind and mounted a large headland of rock that jutted out of the landscape. When they got to the top, Bucky said, “Look.” Steve looked out. Trees framed a view right out of a painting, skyscrapers outlined with gold, stark silhouettes against a red-orange sundown. Closer in, a pond nestled in the greenery, a couple of ducks floating on its surface. They couldn’t see a soul. “Nice, huh?”

Steve contemplated him, pleased that Bucky could look at a view and appreciate it for its simple beauty and not, say, how good a sniper hidey hole it would be. “It sure is. How’d you know about this place?”

“Found out about it way back when we were kids. My sister showed me once when Ma made the mistake of letting us go to the city by ourselves. Remember, there was that big Hooverville in the park. Up here, you could get away from everything, pretend you were somewhere else.”

“Why didn’t you show it to me then?”

Bucky looked down at his feet. “Dunno. I think my sister made me swear not to tell anyone else, not even you. It was kind of a thing between us, something we shared.” 

Steve took his hand. “It’s beautiful, Buck. Makes you glad to be alive.”

Bucky’s face was filled with emotion. “I don’t know if I deserve all this.” He swallowed and something flashed across his face. “All those lives, everything the Winter Soldier did.”

Steve put his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pulled him close, kissed the top of his head. “Oh, Buck.” This must have been what was bothering him.

Bucky put his arm around Steve and nestled his face on Steve’s shoulder. Steve could feel a faint tremor go through him. “It shouldn’t be me. I shouldn’t be here. All those people, Steve. There’s nothing about me we should celebrate. Doesn’t matter how long I’ve felt more…normal. I don’t deserve any of this. I don’t deserve to be here. With you.”

A vise squeezed Steve’s chest. “Buck, Buck. It’s not your fault. It was Hydra. _You_ are not the Winter Soldier. Hydra used your body and mind as a weapon without your consent. You can’t blame yourself.” He could tell Bucky didn’t really believe him. It was easy for Steve to say the words, but this was a wound that would take a long time to heal. But he had to make them true, had to make Bucky see that he was right. “You’re here, now. The Winter Soldier is dead. You’re Bucky Barnes. We’re alive, it’s 2015, in the middle of New York City, with a beautiful sunset in front of us. We’ve got our whole lives to live. We can leave all that behind us and make a new future.” He took Bucky’s chin in his hand, making Bucky look at him. “We have an opportunity, Buck. Everything that’s happened brought us to this point. We have to grab it and make everything we can from it. Look at this amazing city. Think of how much better it is now than when we were kids. The whole world is here, anything and everything you’d ever want. We can do anything.”

Bucky looked at him intently. He knitted his brows and gave Steve a half-hearted grin, like he was trying to convince himself. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

“I know it’s hard to believe. But look at us now. We survived for a reason.” He held Bucky’s face and kissed him full on the lips, lingering for moment before pulling away. “I can do that now. And no one will care. We could do it in the middle of Rockefeller Center and no one would care. They’d probably take pictures and talk about how cute we were.”

Bucky snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Not really. But that’s not the point. The point is, we can be free now. We can be who we truly are. There’s nothing holding us back.”

“I suppose.” Bucky looked out at the view, then sat down on the rock cross-legged. He picked up some gravel and sifted through it. Steve sat down next to him and let silence pass between them for a moment. It was a gorgeous view. He’d have to come back with a sketchbook. 

“Just think about what I’m saying. The future is now. The past is dead,” Steve continued. There was so much weight between them. He was desperate to move on, move forward. The past was something they couldn't help - it had made them - but it didn't help them forge the future. The future was something shining and unknown, a light that lifted Steve into the infinite, and he wanted Bucky to be there with him.

Bucky snorted. “Sounds like something from that Stark Expo we went to before I shipped out.” 

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” He grasped Bucky's hand tighter. "We can be a part of whatever comes next." He switched his hand so he was holding Bucky's left, metal hand. "Neither of us belongs to the past, really, if you think about it"

Bucky stared at the ground,."Maybe you're right.” Steve felt a slight pressure from Bucky's left hand. “The only direction is up.”

If that was all he could get, it was better than nothing, Steve thought. "Bucky, look how far you've come. Do you remember a year ago?”

The faint lines around Bucky’s mouth deepened. "Not really." 

“Well, I do. _You_ weren't here. I don't know where you were, but you weren't here. The Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky Barnes.” He swallowed, thinking about the best way to talk about this. "I thought I’d lost you. When I looked at you, all I could see was a blank wall that I didn’t know how to penetrate or get beyond. I couldn’t see the real you at all.” God, he wanted Bucky to understand. He gripped Bucky’s arm, willing him to get it, willing him to understand everything he'd gone through. "Buck. I didn't know if you were coming back. It seemed like you were gone. Forever.’

Bucky was still for a moment, still in a way he never had been before the war. It almost hurt to see it. With a choked voice, he said, “I’m not sure I’m back. Might never be sure.” 

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. There was always going to be that darkness hovering over them, wasn’t there? The possibility that the Winter Soldier’s programming was more subtle and deep than any of them realized. He hadn’t known until that moment what Bucky thought about it. They’d fallen into a pattern of not discussing it, of Steve acting constantly upbeat and optimistic, pretending that Bucky was back to being the person he’d been before the war, and Bucky silently going along.

Steve gathered Bucky in his arms and held him tight. “Babe.” He couldn’t say anything else. His throat was clogged with emotion. They sat there for a minute, clutching at each other as darkness fell and the city lights grew brighter in the distance. Steve murmured into Bucky’s hair, “You’re back. I can feel it. It’s never going to be exactly the same as it was. We’ve been through too much. We’ll always have to be careful. But it’s you, I know it.”

Bucky heaved a sigh and said, in a voice muffled by Steve’s jacket, “There are some things you can’t save me from.”

It was the one thing Steve never wanted to admit. He swallowed. “Yeah, but I’m not going to give up on you. Never that, Buck. You keep going to therapy, you keep working on it. Things will be all right.” He kissed Bucky’s hair, then turned Bucky’s face toward his. He had to see his eyes, his expression. Bucky’s face was half in shadow, half in light, smudges under his eyes. It struck him how drawn and pale Bucky still was even after a year. Steve had gotten used to it. He cupped Bucky’s face, so beloved. He’d do anything for this man. “It’s all going to be all right,” he repeated, as much for his own benefit as Bucky’s.

Bucky’s eyes were sad but Steve thought he saw a glint of hope in them. “Steve. Always the man with a plan, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Steve tried to smile. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Forget going out on a big date. That was me being stupid. You didn’t say anything and I thought it was okay. Guess not.”

“It wasn’t that…I thought I was okay with it. It sounded like a good idea. I’m sorry I got so worked up. It just didn’t feel right, even though I wanted it to be.”

“Oh god, you should never apologize for this. You’ve come so far. You might not believe it and maybe it doesn’t feel that way to you, but you have. I just wanted to celebrate it.”

“Yeah, I get it. I guess I just don’t feel like celebrating yet. I’m not going to stop feeling like, well, like I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have survived. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay with it.” 

“All right. You know, sometimes I feel the same way. Why me? Why was I the one who got the serum? Why did they find me in the ice? But I just pick up my feet and keep walking. Because we have no choice. Have to make the best of things.”

Bucky gave him a small grin and Steve’s heart lurched like he was riding the Cyclone at Coney Island. “Guess that’s right. Got no choice. One foot in front of the other.” Bucky tightened his hold on Steve and clenched his eyes shut. “I’m so lucky you’re here.”

Steve’s eyes teared up. With some difficulty, he replied, “Same here, pal. Same here.”

They sat there a few more minutes in silence before Bucky said, “You know, in the old days there was an ice cream parlor on Central Park South. Wonder if it’s still there.”

“Probably not. But you never know. Wanna go see?” Relief flooded Steve as he scrambled up then held out a hand to Bucky. “If it’s not, we can find somewhere else. ‘Course there isn’t a decent egg cream left in the city, but I could do with a hot fudge sundae.”

Bucky put his arms around Steve and his unexpected smile made it feel like bright noon. “Or a banana split.”

“Now you’re talking. When all else fails, eat ice cream.”

“Is that right? Decided I’m a cheap date after all?”

Steve hugged him tight through another swell of emotion. “Buck. I don’t care what kind of date you are as long as we’re together.” 

They picked their way down the rock and started down the path. “Now that I think about it, you’re actually pretty high maintenance,” Steve said. Was he allowed to joke about it? He eyed Bucky.

“Uh, who’s talking, Mr. I-barely-survived-childhood. You probably wouldn’t have lived to get the serum if it wasn’t for me.”

Thank god, he was. “You got a point.” He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist because he could. Bucky reciprocated. “Stay in my bedroom tonight, all right?”

When Bucky turned his face to Steve’s, he was smirking grandly and Steve couldn’t have been happier than if they’d managed the date on the very first try. “I thought you’d never ask.” He poked Steve with his elbow. “Grandpops. I got the biggest case of blue balls in the entire city.”

“That sounds bad. Better take care of that.” 

“After that banana split. Gotta keep up our energy.”

“Sugar before sex it is. Although I question your priorities.”

“We missed dinner. Bet we can go all night after some chow.”

“I like the way you think, Sergeant Barnes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know about this. I’m not sure it works, so I welcome constructive suggestions.


End file.
